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“Shit.”

I know that look.

Confusion. Loss of coordination. Sudden weakness.

Could be a medical problem.

Could be something she's been exposed to.

But what the fuck would she have been exposed to in my cabin?

I haven't used the fireplace since yesterday morning. The stove's off. There's nothing running that should make her sick.

I'll figure it out later.

Right now, she needs help.

I hit the throttle.

My phone connects to the clubhouse through my helmet.

Grim answers.

“What's up?”

“Woman at my cabin's in trouble. She's disoriented, barely standing. Get Razor and come to the cabin.”

His voice changes immediately.

“On our way.”

“Tell him to bring oxygen. Could be some kind of exposure.”

“Got it.”

I disconnect.

Come on, sweetheart.

Hold on.

I pull into the driveway hard enough to scatter gravel.

The bike's barely stopped before I'm off it.

I run to the front door, unlock it, and rush inside.

She's lying on the living room floor, one arm stretched toward the kitchen.

Fuck.

I drop beside her.

“Fuck. Stay with me, sweetheart. I've got you.”

Her eyelids flutter.

“Can you hear me?”